Chapter 1

Beyond it was a garden unlike any she had ever seen. Flowers of every color imaginable grew in wild, happy clusters. Butterflies with wings like stained glass fluttered from blossom to blossom. And in the center, under an ancient olive tree, sat a rabbit. But this was no ordinary rabbit. He was as white as fresh snow, with ears that seemed to glow softly, and he wore a tiny silver pocket watch on a chain around his neck.

"Ah, you found me," said the rabbit, his voice gentle and kind. "I was beginning to think you'd never come."

Jan's eyes grew wide. She had heard of talking animals in stories, but she never thought she would meet one. "You can talk?" she whispered.

The rabbit chuckled, a sound like wind chimes. "Of course I can talk. I am Mubarak, the keeper of the garden. And you must be Jan."

"How do you know my name?" Jan asked, stepping closer.

Mubarak hopped off his little mossy seat and came toward her. "I know many things, little one. I know about the moon-shaped mark on your left wrist. I know you were born on the night of the harvest moon. And I know that you have a very special journey ahead of you."

Jan looked down at her wrist. The mark was pale and small, like a tiny crescent moon. She had always thought it was just a birthmark. "What kind of journey?"

"Not today," Mubarak said, his whiskers twitching. "Today is for getting to know the garden. Come, let me show you around."

He led her through paths lined with silver stones. They passed a pond where fish with golden scales leaped and danced. They walked under an arch of roses that smelled like chocolate and vanilla. They stopped by a patch of mushrooms that were all different colors—blue, purple, orange, and even one that was striped like a candy cane.

"These are wish-mushrooms," Mubarak explained. "If you make a wish while holding one, and if your heart is pure, the wish will come true."

Jan wanted to pick one, but Mubarak gently shook his head. "Not yet. You must earn the right to make a wish."

They continued walking until they reached a small stone bench beside a fountain. The water in the fountain sparkled like liquid starlight. Jan sat down, and Mubarak jumped onto the bench beside her.

"Why me?" Jan asked. "Why am I special?"

Mubarak looked at her with his deep, dark eyes. "Do you know what your name means, Jan?"

Jan shook her head.

"In an old language, it means 'gift from the moon.' The mark on your wrist is no ordinary birthmark. It is a sign that you are connected to the moon, and the moon has chosen you for a great task."

"What task?" Jan asked, her heart beating faster.

"To protect the Garden of the Moon," Mubarak said softly. "There are many gardens in the world, but this one is special. It grows between the world of humans and the world of dreams. And there are those who would like to destroy it."

Jan felt a shiver run down her spine. "Who?"

"The Shadow King," Mubarak replied. "He lives in a dark castle beyond the mountains. He hates light and joy and beauty. He wants to cover the world in shadows, and the only thing that can stop him is the Moonflower, which blooms in this garden once every hundred years. The next blooming is in seven days, on the night of the next harvest moon."

"And I have to protect it?" Jan asked.

"Yes," Mubarak said. "But you won't be alone. I will help you. And there are others, too, who will join you on your journey."

Jan looked around at the beautiful garden, at the flowers and the butterflies and the shimmering pond. She felt a strange mix of fear and excitement. She was only seven years old. How could she possibly protect a magical garden from a Shadow King?

But as she looked at Mubarak, who was watching her with such trust and hope, she knew she had to try.

"I'll do it," she said. "I'll help you protect the garden."

Mubarak smiled, his whole face lighting up. "I knew you would. Now, it's getting dark. Your grandmother will be worried. You should go back. But come again tomorrow, and we will begin your training."

Jan nodded and stood up. She walked back the way they had come, with Mubarak hopping beside her. When they reached the secret door in the library wall, she turned to say goodbye.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" she asked.

"I will always be here," Mubarak promised. "The garden is my home."

Jan slipped through the door and back into the dusty library. The panel closed behind her, and the crack in the wall disappeared, as if it had never been there. She stood for a moment, wondering if it had all been a dream. But then she looked at her wrist, and the crescent mark seemed to glow faintly in the dim light.

It was real.

She ran out of the library and found her grandmother in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup. "Grandmother," she said breathlessly, "I found a garden! And a talking rabbit named Mubarak!"

Her grandmother smiled, a knowing smile. "Ah, so you've met Mubarak, have you? I was wondering when he would show himself to you."

Jan's jaw dropped. "You know about him?"

"Of course," her grandmother said, wiping her hands on her apron. "I used to visit the garden when I was a little girl. And my mother before me, and her mother before her. It's a family tradition, you see."

She knelt down and took Jan's hands. "The garden chooses one person in each generation to be its guardian. It has chosen you, Jan. And I know you will do wonderfully."

Jan hugged her grandmother tightly. That night, as she lay in bed, she stared out the window at the moon. It was big and round and silver, and it seemed to be smiling at her. She touched the mark on her wrist and whispered, "I won't let you down."

Outside, in the hidden garden, Mubarak sat under the olive tree, watching the moon rise. "She is ready," he said to himself. "The journey begins tomorrow."

And far away, beyond the mountains, in a dark castle made of black stone, the Shadow King stirred on his throne. His eyes, like two cold embers, opened in the darkness. "I sense something," he hissed. "A new guardian. How amusing. Let her come. She will be no match for me."

He laughed, a sound like breaking glass, and the shadows in the castle grew deeper and colder.

The next morning, Jan woke up early. She put on her favorite dress—the one with the little yellow flowers—and ran straight to the library. She pushed against the wall, and the secret door opened once more. The garden was waiting for her, and so was Mubarak.

"Ready to begin?" he asked.

Jan nodded, her heart full of courage. "Ready."